


Fountains

by LeraOmo (Lera_Myers)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Desperation, F/F, Humiliation, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Omorashi, Teasing, Trapped In Elevator, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 17:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lera_Myers/pseuds/LeraOmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda ends up stuck in an elevator on the Citadel with Shepard. This would be bad enough if she didn't also have a full bladder to worry about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fountains

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [a prompt](http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/8276.html?thread=41321556#t41321556) at the Mass Effect Kink Meme.

_Beep._  
  
“I don’t think it’s working.”  
  
_Beep._  
  
“Nope. It’s not doing anything.” Shepard sighed, glaring at the elevator’s emergency call button as if she could intimidate it into activating. “Think we’ll have to wait it out?”  
  
The  _Normandy’s_  XO responded through a grimace. “That could be ages. And it’s getting warm,” she added after a moment.  
  
Shepard drummed her fingers against the wall. “Let me try hacking it.” Once more the commander stooped and opened her omni-tool, bright flashes playing across the screen, and got to work.  
  
Miranda leaned back against the wall, privately grateful this method demanded more of Shepard’s concentration than pushing a button. Even if this didn’t work, it gave her some time to compose herself. She hadn’t been lying about the heat - with two warm bodies in an elevator this small, it was inevitable - but if that had been the only problem, this whole thing would equal out to nothing more than an inconvenience. Instead, it was giving her plenty of time to rue all the tea she’d drunk during their conference with the Council.  
  
Their talk had been lengthy, and by the time it was over the Cerberus officer had already felt her bladder’s familiar nagging. Bathroom breaks were awkward at best with the bodysuit she wore, and it was silly to wait for a filthy public toilet on the Citadel when going back to the  _Normandy_  was been faster anyway - that had been her logic. And it  _would_  have been faster, that was, if not for the damned elevator getting stuck somewhere between the second and third floors.  
  
With Shepard having taken charge of the situation as she normally did, all Miranda could do was sit back and try not to squirm too visibly. It was going to be an uncomfortable wait until things were sorted out, but surely it wouldn’t take too much longer. She flicked her omni-tool open to check the time. They’d been stuck in here at least fifteen minutes.  
  
“Commander, can’t you work faster?”  
  
The only response was a snort. “Someone’s impatient.”  
  
“Shepard.”  
  
“I’m doing my best, Randa. It’s hard to get into. We might just have to wait.”  
  
Even the thought made her bladder give a painful little throb. “I’ll try calling C-Sec. That’s sure to be faster.”  
  
The commander grunted, losing her place again. “No reception in here, I’m sure.”  
  
Her omni-tool flashing with a message that confirmed Shepard’s prediction, Miranda left it open to watch the time. When the twenty-minute mark ticked by, she grimaced.  
  
“This is ridiculous. Doesn’t the Citadel needs its elevator?”  
  
“You’d think.” Shepard smacked her own omni against the panel lightly. “Why’re you so impatient, anyway? You’re not feeling sick or anything, are you?”  
  
“Of course not. I’m just anxious to get back to my research.” From the way the commander glanced at her, she knew the lie hadn’t gone over as well as she’d hoped, but that was all right. As long as Shepard didn’t guess what was really going on, she could be skeptical all she liked.  
  
As twenty minutes stretched to a half hour and then to forty, the biotic struggled to maintain her composure. It was harder with Shepard constantly glancing over at her, but she did her best to concentrate. It was the only reason she managed to miss the sly smile on the commander’s face.  
  
“Hey, Randa,” Shepard said abruptly.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Ever seen those fountains the Citadel has?”

That was enough to break her concentration. “Wait, what?”  
  
“You know.” Shepard looked entirely too smug. “They’re full of water.”  
  
_Oh. Wonderful. That’s the last thing I need to be thinking about right now._  
  
“ _Lots_  of water,” the commander added with a grin.  
  
_…You’re kidding me._  
  
“Shepard…” Miranda began, redoubling her efforts.  
  
“Yup, lots of water,” Shepard continued as though she hadn’t heard. “Gallons of it, rushing and splashing and gushing and bubbling…”  
  
“ _Shepard!_ ”  
  
“And rushing and flooding and…” When the operative couldn’t help but bend slightly at the waist, Shepard’s description trailed off, but Miranda didn’t dare meet her eyes to catch a glimpse of her reaction.  
  
_No. Nononononono…_  
  
Each second felt like a small eternity as her body teetered on the edge of losing it, everything in her lower stomach throbbing with the effort of not letting Shepard’s little speech be the straw that broke the camel’s back.  
  
“Randa, are you honestly…?”  
  
_NO. Don’t think about it, I…_  
  
… **bloody** …  
  
As her bladder gave up the ghost and emptied itself she was utterly helpless to stop it, rivers soaking the white fabric of her bodysuit. She straightened up as if in a trance, one hand going up to cover her eyes. There was no way she could ever look Shepard in the face again after this, Shepard or whoever found them when this elevator finally opened.  
  
“Oh.” The commander sounded more than a little incredulous, somehow managing to pack it all into just one syllable. “So you…”  
  
The Cerberus operative could feel the muscles around her crotch burning, but it was nothing compared to her face. There was a slight pool forming around her feet at this point, soaking into the flooring torturously slowly.  
  
At last the stream slowed to a trickle and died, but Miranda hardly moved, apart from leaning against the elevator wall. Everything from the waist down felt utterly disgusting, and she didn’t even want to think about how she was going to hide it from the others on the ship before she could get changed…  
  
“Randa?” Shepard’s tone wasn’t mocking in the slightest. It actually sounded…timid.  
  
“I know, I know,” the raven-haired woman mumbled, certain she was now the color of a very ripe tomato.  
  
“No, I was going to apologize. I didn’t want to make you do…that.”  
  
At once Miranda’s arms folded over her chest, her posture straightening, and she looked Shepard straight in the eye, so indignant she forgot for a moment to be embarrassed. “Really.”  
  
“I mean…” Shepard seemed almost flustered, an expression Miranda had never seen on her. “You were being pretty obvious about it. I thought you’d just, I dunno, tell me off. And it would be funny. I didn’t think you were that bad off.”  
  
There was a soft  _thunk_  as Lawson tipped her head backwards to meet the wall again. “Yes, well.” She didn’t bother to finish.  
  
“Hey. ’S okay.” A hand came to rest on her shoulder. “Look, when we get back on board, I’ll…figure out a way to make sure the others don’t find out. You can use my shower or something.”  
  
_Ah. The shower that I gave you. How generous._  She didn’t say that lest Shepard withdraw her offer, but just nodded, eyes briefly flicking up again. “All right. And after that, can I expect we’ll forget about all of this?”  
  
“Sure, Randa. I won’t tell anyone.”  
  
It was probably a good thing Miranda was looking down. If she’d caught the look on Shepard’s face on that moment, it might have clued her in that she wasn’t the only one suffering very wet panties.


End file.
